


Carfax Manor

by spowell Count Dracula series (SPowell)



Series: Count Dracula [16]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bestiality, F/F, M/M, Mind Control, Vampires, Werewolves, blood-sucking, dark!fic, enslavement, evil!Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:25:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/spowell%20Count%20Dracula%20series
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is drawn to Carfax Manor to see the Count again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carfax Manor

**Author's Note:**

> I made a few small changes to the last entry. You might want to read it again. Please heed the warnings to this entry.

Arthur got mid-way to his townhouse before he ordered the driver to turn around. Stoically, he gave directions to Carfax Manor and sat back in his seat.

There were two reasons for this: One, the obvious threat of the three sisters’ visit to Gwendolyn-- If Arthur continued to ignore the Count, what might they do to her?

Two, the increasing discomfort of Arthur’s neck and groin--Since the moment he described Dracula’s features to Gwendolyn, Arthur’s neck had been on fire and an embarrassingly large erection tented his trousers. It had been all he could do to hide it from his fiancée when she’d embraced him. He couldn’t imagine going home and ignoring the desperate need he had to see the Count again—a need that was growing stronger by the moment.

Certainly it would be safe to go to see the Count with his driver accompanying him.

Carfax Manor was a hulking mansion that Arthur had only seen once while accompanying Gaius to the closing of its sale. That had been a bright summer's morning, but as Arthur's carriage bounced along the winding drive surrounded by ancient oaks now completely stripped of their leaves, he pulled his cloak around him against the bitter cold and peered out into the gloaming.

As the carriage came to a stop, horses blowing steam from their nostrils and restlessly stamping their hooves, flocks of ravens gathered in the trees surrounding the place. The birds seemed to watch as Arthur left the carriage and instructed his driver to wait for him, making their strange croaking sounds as he approached the door and knocked, unsure of what to expect. A surly Cenred as a doorman certainly wasn’t it.

Cenred opened wide the door, giving Arthur an elaborate, mocking bow.

“How good of you to come.”

“Hello,” Arthur nodded to him. “I’m here to see Count Dracula.”

“I expect you are. Come this way. We are just having our meal.”

Arthur followed through the wide, high-ceilinged foyer to the elaborate dining room where sat the entire group: the three sisters, dressed in their vulgar, gauzy, white dresses, feeding one another and laughing in their lilting way; Leander, with a completely naked Will standing at attention beside him, this time with someone’s hat hanging on his flagpole of an erection; Gwaine, whom Arthur suspected by the twinkle in his eye to be the owner of the hat; and at the head of the table, the Count, whom Arthur’s hungry eyes sought and pinned upon with alacrity.

There was no mistaking the look in Dracula’s eyes--it relayed pure pleasure in Arthur’s appearance. Without realising he was doing it, Arthur raised his hand to his neck and pressed his fingers to the place of the bite at the same time that his other hand reached down and pressed to his groin. The Count took in a deep breath.

Arthur suddenly became conscious that all activity at the table had stopped and everyone watched them.

“Well, go on, then,” Leander said presently to his cousin. “Have your dessert.”

The Count rose from the table and, with a look at Arthur, swept from the room, Arthur following.

The Count’s bedroom at Carfax was more warm and inviting than that of Castle Dracula, with a large four poster bed that took up much of the space. With every step Arthur took, his breathing accelerated, until he was fairly bursting with need. When the Count finally touched him, he groaned embarrassingly loudly.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” the Count purred in Arthur’s ear.

“My driver waits outside,” Arthur said, in case there was any question.

“Of course.” The Count ran his hand down Arthur’s side, and Arthur trembled. The Count kissed him, tongue running over Arthur’s, finger’s opening Arthur’s flies.

“Please…” Arthur’s voice came out a croak. He bared his neck.

“In due time.”

Arthur wanted to cry. To force the Count to drink from him. As it was, he fidgeted as his clothes were slowly removed, piece by piece. Dracula’s hand wrapped around Arthur’s cock, stroking it, and Arthur cried out.

“Please! Please, oh, please!”

“Patience, my Angel.” The Count sprinkled kisses over Arthur’s face and neck. When his lips moved over the place of the bite, Arthur nearly fainted from pleasure and want.

He gripped the Count’s arms, fingers digging in.

“On the bed,” the Count whispered, leading Arthur there and helping him to lie down on his back. “Spread your legs.”

Arthur did as he was told, and then watched the Count undress, admiring the lines of his body. Unable to help himself, he reached up and tweaked the perfect, dusky nipples as the Count draped himself over Arthur. Dracula gasped at the touch. He turned and reached for something.

“I procured this for you. For your comfort.”

It was a vial of oil.

Arthur took it with a small smile and applied it to himself quickly, and then he was filled, rising off the bed with a howl of pleasure. Their bodies rocked together, and Arthur had no thought to spare for Gwendolyn, or anyone else in the world, for that matter.

As delicious sensation skated through Arthur, building to a crescendo, the Count leaned forward and sank his teeth into Arthur’s neck, making Arthur writhe and arch into him, screaming in lustful agony as, simultaneously, long draughts of blood were sucked from his veins and ropes of cum pulled from his cock.

An hour later, Arthur descended the spiral staircase, heading for the front door. Rowdy noise from the dining room told him the meal still went on. He glanced in to see Morgana and Marcella sitting on top of the table—heedless of the food, dresses hiked up and goblets of wine in their hands, long pale legs crossed and vermilion lips open in laughter. Gwaine leaned back in his chair, cock exposed and voraciously licked and sucked by Will, whose hands were held behind his back by one of Leander’s as Leander continued to eat with his other hand.

Yvette sprawled on the floor, gown ripped, with a black wolf mounting her.

Arthur hurried from the doorway and the house, getting into his carriage and directing his driver home. The ravens seemed to mock him from the trees, and a pair a clear blue eyes watched from an upper window until Arthur’s carriage rounded the corner of the drive and was gone from sight.


End file.
